My Lord, Would You Like to Raise a Dragon?

Karen lifted the glass with his right hand and took a sip of iced water. With his left, he idly turned the bracelet over in his palm. It was filled with cloudy inclusions, lacking any smoothness or luster. This meant the craftsman who forged it had focused entirely on inscribing the array, neglecting its aesthetics—or perhaps had simply lacked the skill to balance both. It was certainly a valuable item. After all, it wasn't a single-use talisman; it could be recharged and maintained for repeated use, making it quite expensive. For Karen, however, it was of little practical value. For one thing, his own reserves were profound, and he didn't care about the negligible cost of laying down a simple barrier. For another, while his proficiency in arrays had not yet reached master rank, bolstered by Mr. Hoffen's notes and the Key to the Rubik's Cube, he was at least exceptional. Still, this was a gift from Neo. Returning it would be a slap in Neo's face, and Neo would certainly take offense. So Karen placed the bracelet in his desk drawer, intending to regift it when a suitable occasion arose. Across the desk, Neo held a lit cigarette between his fingers, puffing out continuous plumes of dejection. Ever since dinner, he had been wearing this exact expression. "Tell me, how long has it even been? It was right here, wasn't it, where we first met? Back then, I disguised myself as a clerk just to drop by and see the aftermath of the Qihe case. Then I pulled you into my squad—you were just an off-the-books auxiliary member at first. "And look at you now. Sitting on equal footing with me." Karen corrected him, "I am the Director of the First Office, and you are the Director of the Second Office. Strictly speaking, I am half a step ahead of you." Neo: "..." Karen picked up the damaged scroll. Rather than rushing to probe it with his consciousness, he inspected its structural details. The damage wasn't on the outside, but internal. That kind of damage was virtually impossible to repair, as mending it was an order of magnitude harder than creating it in the first place. However... Karen suddenly recalled the reforging of his own wings. It seemed he really did have the means to repair it after all. After all, his household boasted a genius cat and an evil god dog. "Fine, I concede. Who told you to be young and handsome?" "What does being handsome have to do with anything?" Karen chuckled. "Besides, you don't even have a face." "So what, is having a great background that amazing?" "Having a great background really is amazing. It's not something I had a choice in. Before I opened my eyes, an evil god had already remodeled my body for me, and when I did open my eyes, Diss was the first person I saw. For a while right after opening my eyes, I wasn't used to looking like this, but by now I consider it quite ordinary." Karen stretched. He thoroughly enjoyed mocking a friend when that friend suffered some "misfortune." Back on Dark Moon Island, Neo had relentlessly ridiculed him over the matter with Ophelia. The pleasure now was cut from the exact same cloth. Neo raised his own glass of iced water, feigning a throw at Karen. Karen grinned. Neo pulled back his hand and gulped down a mouthful, the ice cubes crunching loudly between his teeth. "Actually, nothing really has to change. You're still my boss. We can keep everything just as it was—I can't be bothered to change anyway." These were Karen's genuine thoughts, not empty pleasantries. He had learned a great deal from Neo. Leaving aside Neo's deliberate penchant for seeking amusement, his strategic vision and opportunism were undeniably formidable. In truth, Karen had simply caught Neo at the right juncture. Neo had spent ten years adrift, wasting away his time in Sangpu City. Just when Neo had prepared himself and secured a transfer to Yorktown, Karen had hopped aboard. Thanks to Karen, Neo's promotions had come much faster. But even without him, Neo's rise wouldn't have lagged, as he carried the combined wisdom of two people. "Last time, with the inspection delegation, Bernie pulled the strings, I rounded up the people, and you brought your squad along with me on a political gamble. We picked the winning side and made it back alive. "From Bernie to me, down to you and your squad, everyone climbed higher off that successful gamble—it was a collective promotion. "This time, however, it's just your own promotion. Going by what you described of your experience in the Temple, it must have succeeded. It definitely took a nod from true high-level leadership for you to get this promotion. "Generally speaking, the higher up you go, it's 'one crock, one flavor of paste.' "Judging by Bernie's earlier reaction, he felt a bit awkward. To his mind, your forced promotion didn't align with the customary procedures followed by him, the Regional Chief, or even the tiers above them. "Only someone perched at the very summit—someone who couldn't care less about tacit understandings, bureaucratic protocols, or what mid-level officials think—would make such an arrangement." Karen asked curiously, "So what good does analyzing all this do now?" "Of course it's useful!" Neo crossed his legs and tapped his cigarette ash onto the carpet. "It means you have officially entered the sights of the high brass. It's like joining a corporation where, despite all the layers in between, the chairman has taken personal note of you." "Right." Neo continued, "So going forward, you only need to ensure your name keeps popping up before the chairman, and your ladder to the top will be completely clear. "True big shots have countless matters demanding their attention each day. How many small fry can they possibly remember? Sometimes when making personnel decisions, they simply pick the small fry whose name sticks in their head, just to look like they're well-informed about the grassroots." Karen chimed in, "Yes, as a small fry, I feel deeply honored." "You little brat, you figured this out long ago, didn't you? Otherwise, why would you have your grandfather impersonate Rasma and stomp on that fellow when the Temple examiner inspected your consciousness space?" Karen shook his head and answered candidly, "I wasn't thinking that far ahead back then. It was mostly Rasma who gave me the idea." "People instinctively pick the optimal path." Neo shrugged, then turned serious, rapping his knuckles on the desk. "So, in this upcoming grand purge, you must make yourself high-profile—high-profile, and even higher-profile!" Neo stood up, resting both hands on the desk as he leaned toward Karen. "The springboard is already under your feet. The harder you stomp on it, the higher you'll bounce! "Damn it! "If I didn't know it was impossible, I'd suspect you were the assassin in disguise." "Absurd." "You disguised yourself as the assassin, then pretended to kill the assassin, setting up the entire stage for yourself. All you have to do next is put on a grand performance to rake in political capital and secure a fast track to promotion." Karen raised a brow slightly. "Put that way, it actually makes a lot of sense." "Of course, it could also be interpreted as our superiors in the Whip of Order orchestrating it to break the deadlock and expand their influence, haha." Karen shook his head. "Impossible." "Of course it's impossible. The higher-ups wouldn't do something like that, nor would they go that far. That would completely shatter the rules, and everyone within the church would end up assassinating one another. "All that can be said is... the assassin's mission wasn't completed in full. Maybe he only finished half of it. "No, even if he finished ninety-nine percent, he still missed that final one percent. "I suspect that after the assassination, he intended to leave behind some traces and evidence—a semi-public red herring designed to stir up a maelstrom of conflict between the churches. "Instead, he laid eyes on your cat, grabbed her like an idiot, and bolted straight to your hometown. "The most ridiculous part is that he actually ignored your dog!" Indeed, the assassin had only had eyes for the Finger of Light concealed in Purr's tail. Yet that was merely a divine relic; how could it compare to a living god? In terms of value, Kevin was unequivocally an invaluable dog. Neo continued, "He used sand-based powers, but it was too obvious—so blatant that no reasonable person would believe the Desert Church was responsible. Suffice it to say, he left his job unfinished, yet paved your way for you. Sigh, looks like I'll have my hands full next." Karen said, "Thank you for your hard work." Even though he had been shoved aside into the position of Director of the Second Office, Neo knew full well that he would still have to take the lead in drafting the concrete plans for the upcoming action. Back when Karen was his subordinate, the kid had brazenly slacked off; there was no reason to believe he would suddenly become diligent now that they were equals. Truth be told, if anyone other than Karen had snatched his post and reaped the harvest, Neo would already be plotting how to bring the bastard down. It was only because it was Karen that Neo had to swallow his sulking and keep slaving away on plans for him. "With the Head Bishop cooperating in this purge, as long as we carry it out successfully and generate enough impact, momentum, and prestige, our Regional Chief should be able to transfer to headquarters in the Dinge Region. The post of Regional Chief would then be filled by Bernie. "Those two have had an understanding on this for a long time. The bond between the Regional Chief and Bernie is just like the one between you and me. "So, 'one crock holds one kind of paste.' When everyone shifts crocks together, you'll have the chance to be promoted to Minister, stepping into Bernie's shoes." "You could too," Karen pointed out. "There are quite a few Regional Minister positions. I saw them during the last meeting—they could surround an entire round table." Neo sighed with exaggerated drama. "But Bernie will only leave behind one crock. What do we do then?" Karen replied, "Didn't one of the ministers team up with the Norton family last time? The rest of them can't all have clean hands either. We can just topple another one along the way to free up a seat. "That's how the game works anyway, isn't it? You can't purge a whole crowd from the Regional Administration while leaving our own ranks completely untouched. A head or two has to roll from our side just to keep up appearances." Neo chuckled. "Normally, I'm the one who says things like that." "I just didn't want you to feel wronged," Karen said with a smile. "Right, message received, my dear Director of the First Office." "You're too kind, my dear Director of the Second Office." "Heh. By the way, now that you've been promoted, your subordinates' positions can be bumped up as well. What are your thoughts on your former post as Captain, and on the Deputy Director position?" "For the Captain post, I plan to give it to Muri. The Deputy Director position goes to Alfred." "Neither Vic nor Leon?" "Vic's situation is a bit unique. He actually misunderstands his own predicament. I suspect that even if he does nothing at all, the High Priest will promote him once the overall situation stabilizes in a few years. He is the one truly held in the heart of a great figure. "As for Leon, I don't want to make it feel like a transaction. He's under immense pressure right now, and I think he would prefer to remain an ordinary squad member for now. "Besides, the team is right here. Title adjustments aren't all that crucial." "The office has two vacant secretarial posts. I intend to transfer Peg and Fannie over to my side." "You mean having Vic and Leon serve as my secretaries?" "Yeah." "A good suggestion. I'll make the arrangements." "All right, I'll take my leave. Now that the three of them met earlier today, things are definitely set in motion. Believe it or not, by the time I get back, a fresh batch of extremely detailed whistleblower reports will already be sitting on my desk." Karen reminded him, "On my desk." "Damn it!" ... After Neo left, Karen walked into the bedroom. Not seeing Purr on the bed, he went over to the adjoining dog nook. There, he saw Purr asleep on the mat inside the kennel, while Kevin lay outside the entrance, keeping guard over her. When Karen had returned home with Lord Augie, Kevin had gone so far as to speak aloud. Moreover, from Purr's account, Karen had learned that Kevin had originally planned to be captured by the assassin in Purr's stead. After the events of that night, the bond between Purr and Kevin had grown even deeper. Proud young lady that she was, Purr was using this gesture to express her affection. Karen's arrival woke Kevin. The dog looked up at Karen first, then glanced at Purr hogging his "bed," his eyes filled with indulgent fondness toward a younger sister. Karen placed the damaged scroll before Kevin and whispered, "Take a look and see if you can help me restore it." Kevin reached out a paw, dragging it toward himself. He flashed Karen a grin, then pointed a claw at Purr, indicating she could help with this as well. "Do what you can with it. Don't worry if it doesn't work out." Just then, a desk bell chimed from the study. Karen walked back into the study. Alfred opened the door and said, "Young Master, that fellow from the Church of the Crypt is back." "Send him in." "Yes, Young Master." Gus had tactfully slipped away earlier after Wolflen and the others sat down. Yet here he was, late in the evening, returning once more. Soon, Gus came inside, appearing even humbler than during their first meeting. Having witnessed firsthand how the two bishops treated Karen, the young man's standing in Gus's mind had clearly skyrocketed. He didn't even address Karen as Captain anymore, greeting him directly: "Good evening, Lord Karen." "Have a seat." "Yes, thank you." "Is there something else?" Karen asked bluntly. "It's about the matter I brought up with you earlier today." Gus extended his hand. His ordinary flesh-and-blood palm instantly turned into bleached bone. With a flash of blue light, the skeletal hand gripped a black dagger, a sharp, deadly aura radiating outward. However, Gus kept the dagger pointed toward himself. "I am actually quite capable. If you are willing to form an inter-church partnership with me, I promise I won't disappoint you." Gus looked like an eager traveling salesman. Having failed his pitch that afternoon, he had returned in the evening—and the product he was peddling was himself. "I'm curious," Karen asked. "What benefit does forming a partnership with me offer you?" "Resources. "This is a tradition forged personally by the great Lord Tyrannus between the Church of Order and the Church of the Crypt—with the Church of Order taking primacy and the Church of the Crypt acting in support, of course. "In truth, compared to the Church of Order, the disparity is immense. "If the Church of Order were compared to a towering tree, the Church of the Crypt would merely be a flower sheltering beneath it... or even a blade of grass." Karen shifted his posture. He didn't casually dismiss this as empty flattery from an outsider toward the Church of Order. A towering tree's root system spread wide and deep, greedily sapping all surrounding nutrients. The Church of the Crypt... was effectively the one being drained. The relationship between Augie and the Whip-Wielder was in no way one of equals; it wasn't even an ordinary superior-subordinate dynamic, but more like... master and bonded pet. "If I enter a partnership with you, I can receive corresponding resources from the Church of Order, scaled according to your rank. "And for adherents of our Church of the Crypt, raising our strength often demands several times more resources than normal human believers require." "Then why is it that so many people I know in the Whip of Order don't have partners from the Church of the Crypt?" "First, it requires an official application, and the Church of Order strictly caps the quota. Second, the esteemed figures in the Whip of Order qualified to apply already command plenty of subordinates and have little need for such a partner. Third, the lords and masters on our side in the Church of the Crypt are generally unwilling to enter such pacts." Karen understood completely now. Unlike his mutually beneficial, equal relationship with the Church of Principles—namely, between him and Xinyali—the arrangement with the Church of the Crypt was essentially that of an indentured servant selling themselves. The exceptional figures on both sides had no need for each other, while those who actually needed it were usually not exceptional enough to secure an allocation. Keeping a monster beast or an aberrant demon at one's side was hardly a stroll in the park. It wasn't as simple as parading it around for status; you had to bear the risk of it losing its mind or running amok. For the other party, as long as they were doing well enough on their own, who would willingly become a servant? Thus, Augie must have formed a partnership with Foden very early on, perhaps during her infancy. Having grown up on the resources bestowed by the Church of Order, she now wanted to slip away after having had her fill. For such a massive frost giant dragon, the resources required for her growth had to be astronomical. Just as Purr had said, even her basic upkeep and daily needs were far beyond what their household could afford. Evidently, Rasma had seen right through Augie's little schemes that night. As the former High Priest, how could he stand by and watch church assets slip through his fingers? Gus, on the other hand, was likely one of the ambitious sorts who was currently down on his luck, intentionally seeking out Karen as a rising star with immense potential. However... Karen already had two pets at home. He had zero interest in keeping a skeleton around the house; he was running a funeral parlor, not a menagerie. Besides, his squad had specialists in every field; there was nowhere he needed Gus. Moreover, there was one detail Gus had undoubtedly omitted: the Whip of Order side surely had to pay some price upon entering such a partnership. For Gus's sake, it simply wasn't worth it. "I'm sorry," Karen said, shaking his head in firm refusal. "I have no such intention for the time being." The light in Gus's eyes dimmed at once. He stood up and bowed to Karen. "Forgive the intrusion, my Lord." "Don't worry about it. Feel free to drop by for tea when you have time. We can be friends." "Yes, thank you. You are a very... very kind person." Gus was genuinely touched. He had assumed that someone as young as Karen, with so many achievements under his belt, would be arrogant and aloof. People like that rarely bothered with courtesy. Even though Gus knew these were merely polite pleasantries, his gratitude was real. Of course, what Gus didn't know was that the last person invited for tea—Mr. Dalis—had vaporized into thin air the moment he came to visit. "By the way, have you had dinner yet?" "My Lord, I do not consume food. I sustain my life through dark-attribute substances." "Delicious food does more than just fill one's belly. You could try some; there should still be leftovers in the kitchen." "No need, my Lord. Thank you, but perhaps next time. Next time." "Alright." "Farewell, my Lord." "Farewell." Gus stepped out of the study and left. Karen rubbed the back of his neck, preparing to take a shower and turn in. Tomorrow promised to be an intensely busy day—or rather, the beginning of a relentless stretch. Yet just as Karen stood up to head toward the bedroom, Alfred opened the door. "Young Master, he came back." "Hm?" "After I saw him to the door, he said he wanted to see you one more time." Karen sighed. After a brief hesitation, he nodded. "Let him in." "Yes, Young Master." Gus stepped back inside. Having apparently steeled his resolve, he walked up to Karen and asked in dead earnest: "My Lord, do you want one?" "Want what?" Gus's tone turned urgent. "Do you want one?" "You should at least tell me what it is before I can answer whether I want it or not." Gus's breathing grew heavy and ragged. He asked: "My Lord, would you like to raise a dragon?"